


A Period of Adjustment

by boriskarloff



Category: Sleeping Beauty (1959)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-03 17:05:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17881787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boriskarloff/pseuds/boriskarloff
Summary: Everyone knows the story.The dragon was slain, the spell was broken with true love's kiss, and they all lived happily ever after.Well, here's the after.





	1. Chapter 1

“You’ll get used it,” Mother had said, kissing me on the forehead.

I would get used to a maze? Back at the cottage, there was only my room, the room for my aunts (I was still unsure how they all slept together in the same room), and the kitchen. But now there were hundreds of doors leading to hundreds of rooms. I was constantly getting lost. It didn’t help that Phillip relished giving me a fright, and was always popping up from behind suits of armor, or sometimes, clanking around inside them. He was always promptly forgiven though. The cottage had been home, but the castle was merely a castle. 

Father told me about my royal duty, as Aunt Flora had done on that night. One of my duties was to greet the members of court, who were so pleased that I had returned safely to my parents after all these years. 

“What was it like?” a woman with a thick accent had asked, grabbing onto my arm.

“I beg your pardon?” I had said, plastering a smile on my face while her nails dug into my arm. (A princess is always polite).

“Why, cherie, being under that terrible spell!”

“Oh, I don’t remember.”

The woman’s face sagged with disappointment. “Ah, a pity.”

I continued smiling, but I wondered why she was so eager to know. That night only came back to me in fragments when I was half asleep. A green light, faint music, and the black wheel, which I had never seen before.

Now, the kingdom was full of spinning wheels. They had all been imported. Father gave a speech about how proud he was that the good people of our kingdom had adhered to his decree and not used one in sixteen years. Now that they were safe to use again, I wanted to learn how to spin. I asked Aunt Flora to teach me, but she didn’t know how. She had no use for spinning wheels when she had magic. The same went for Aunt Fauna and Aunt Merryweather.

“Why do you want to learn to spin?” Mother asked. “I would have thought you’d never want to go near one.”

“I’m not afraid.”

Mother smoothed a loose strand of hair by my forehead. “And you have nothing to be afraid of at all. Do you know that Aurora?”

I melted into her arms. “I know.” 

***  
My aunts still call me Rose. I will answer to both names, but I’m not quite used to Aurora just yet. My parents named me after the dawn. They had been waiting for me for so long. They say that the sun rose into the sky at the precise moment I let out my first cries of life. 

“Your father said you had my chin right away,” my mother remembered fondly.

I do resemble my mother a great deal. Her hair is brown, maybe the exact shade mine would have been if Aunt Flora hadn’t given me golden curls. Mother brushes my hair every single night. Hers is the first face I see in the morning too. She is making up for lost time. I think she also feels guilty that she never saw me grow up, but it’s not her fault. Aunt Merryweather insists that even if Maleficent had been invited, she would have found some other way to ruin my christening; she might even have cursed me regardless. Mother still says that she regrets never doing more to see me. But my very existence had to be kept secret. I was in danger at every moment.

Yet I still have to be chaperoned when I leave the castle. I missed the old days of leaving the cottage to walk in the forest alone, a privilege I had to earn from my aunts who always kept a sharp eye on me. I was forbidden from talking to strangers, a rule that was almost broken more than a few times. There were days when I slipped behind trees and made absolutely no noise while listening in on others’ conversations. Why couldn’t I talk to the girls who were no more older than I was? Couldn’t they have been my friends? What danger was I in by talking to them?

Now however, it was one of my royal duties to talk to every stranger I met! I didn’t mind, although it was strange to be the subject of so much adoration. I hadn’t done anything. In fact, I feared that maybe the people really only loved my parents, and because I was their most precious daughter, their subjects merely loved me for belonging to them. They couldn’t really love me, and I couldn’t possibly be a good leader like the king and queen. Still, I had my royal duties to fulfill. 

I was seated comfortably between my parents in a coach that rumbled along the paved streets.

“Are you nervous Aurora?” Father asked.

“A little,” I said, with a faint smile. In truth, I was terrified. We were going to one of the villages. Talking with people I met casually was fine, but having to stand in front of all those people when I couldn’t effectively lead them was too much.

Mother gave my elbow a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll be fine.”

I tried my hardest to believe her. The coach rolled to a stop. We had arrived. The coachman held out a hand for me, where I was ushered into bright and unrelenting sunlight. I blinked a few times to get adjusted to the light, and felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Father.

“Welcome!” a crisp voice said. Through the sunlight I spotted a well groomed man. He must be the village representative.

“Words cannot express our delight that your royal highnesses have joined us for the day. And welcome Princess Aurora!”

“I’m delighted to be here, thank you,” I recited carefully. 

At that moment, a small girl emerged and presented me with a bouquet of orchids. Her tawny skin gleamed beneath the sunlight, as did the black ringlets crowning her head.

“And who is this?” I asked, taking the hand she offered me.

“One of the village children,” the spokesperson said in a bemused tone. “Don’t know how she got here.”

I gathered my skirts about my knees and leaned down so that my eyes were level with hers.

“And what’s your name little one?”

She only gave me a shy smile in response. She offered her hand which I gratefully took.

“If I may be permitted to speak,” the tall woman with gray hair with the representative said. “That is the seamstress’s granddaughter. But her name escapes me at the moment.”

“Well, I’d like her company. What is your name dear one?”

“I believe she is mute, your majesty,” the woman said. 

“Oh.” I looked into the sweet face. “Well that’s all right. I’m sure we’ll be great friends regardless. Will you be my friend?”

She nodded vigorously. 

The child clung to my skirts for the rest of the day. She put me at ease. I was able to speak clearly to all the bowing and curtsying town people, to listen to their grievances, and to smile naturally. I played the part of princess - and future leader - quite well. I knew that, and I didn’t need the proud gazes of my parents to tell me so. Although that was nice too. 

“See? Nothing at all to be nervous about,” Mother told me. 

Later on we were supposed to dine at the representative’s house. I requested that my small friend sit next to me. She was delighted. She picked up the gleaming silver cutlery and eyed them with awe. I wondered if she was just as knowledgeable about the proper ones to use as I was. Which is to say, not very knowledgeable. I just copied Mother as subtly as I could.

“You know, she really is charming,” Mother said. “But I wonder if her mother isn’t in a right state not knowing where she is.”

She was right of course. “Maybe I should find her.”

“You’ll have to go with a guard.”

I excused myself from the table.

“We have to find your mother little one.”

She got up at once and nodded. We were accompanied by the guard and Myrna, the gray haired woman. She rapped smartly on the door to the cottage, and after a few moments, a striking young woman answered. Her complexion was of the same rich tawny as the little girl’s, but with deep blushes of red in her cheeks. 

“Hello-”

Then her eyes locked on mine. “Oh! Your highness!” She curtsied. Brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes, she straightened up and said, “To what do I owe this honor?”

“Your daughter,” Myrna replied.

The girl emerged from behind me, grinning toothily at her mother.

“Oh dear. Please, accept my apologies, princess, for whatever she may have done.”

“No apologies required,” I said gently. “She was a perfect dear. I’m a little sorry to be bringing her back.”

The mother smiled wanly at me, while the girl hugged her around her legs.

“What is her name?” I asked.

“Oh, Aurora. We named her after you.”

“Aurora! It suits you little one.”

She was overcome with shyness and buried her face in her mother’s apron. I looked around the small cottage, which was cluttered but cozy. My eyes fell on the spinning wheel in the corner. Aurora’s mother noticed.

“I’m sorry your majesty.” She hurried to throw a sheet over it. “Of course you wouldn’t like to see that.”

“It’s quite all right,” I told her. “Forgive me, but what is your name?”

“Ella, dear lady.”

There were clothes piled next to the wheel. A rainbow of fabric gleaming in the cottage’s pale yellow light.

“Are you a seamstress?” I asked.

“She nodded. Currently filling in for my mother. She’s the seamstress for the village but is currently traveling. I’m taking over for her in the meantime.” 

An idea was forming, but Myrna said it was time to leave. I said goodbye to Ella and Aurora, who gazed at me reproachfully.

“Don’t you worry,” I told her. “I’ll see you again quite soon.”   
***

I would have to discuss the idea I had with my parents. I couldn’t make this decision too hastily. 

“Are you sure?” Father asked. “What do you know about her?”

“Nothing really, but she gives me a good feeling.”

“That little Aurora has charmed you,” Mother cut in, but she was smiling.

I nodded. But Ella too had seemed the right sort. So I was escorted once again to her cottage, where I asked if she would be my lady-in-waiting, and teach me to spin. 

I expected the look of shock that sent her eyebrows into her hairline, and little Aurora clapping her hands in delight.

“Me? your highness? I don’t understand.”

“I just have a good feeling about you. And I’m rather fond of Aurora.”

“Oh, but she’s already mighty spoiled, princess. I don’t doubt how much worse it would get if she lived in the castle with you to give her attention.”

Aurora had climbed into my lap. 

“You want to live in the castle with me, don’t you?”

She nodded eagerly, and turned pleading eyes on her mother. Ella chewed her bottom lip, her brows furrowed. 

“You can start when your mother returns,” I said. “There’s no rush. That is, if you accept.”

Ella was looking at us both, fighting a smile. I think she had accepted. Aurora squeezed my arm. 

“Seems I don’t have a choice. I accept.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback of Briar Rose's first life in the cottage with her three aunts.

The clouds above cast a gray pallor on the forest. It was an unusually chilly day for March. We were all waiting for spring. Aunt Flora had woken up with a cold and it made her a bit snippier than she normally was. 

“Dress warmly,” she sniffled.

I was going out to find herbs for her soup, to soothe the cold and hopefully get her back to her old self.

“Don’t talk to strangers, dear,” she said, as if I could ever forget.

“I won’t,” I assured her.

Aunt Fauna and Merryweather echoed Flora when I was in the doorway. I set out, my feet in slippers, although usually I went barefoot. I delighted to feel the grass beneath my feet, all springy and dew filled. But it was cold, so I had to cover them up. The smells of the sweet, damp tree barks filed my nose. I loved it here. It wasn’t often that I encountered strangers in the forest. The animals were far better company, I imagined. And whenever I did chance upon someone, I always remembered the warnings of my aunts. They’d instilled enough fear in me to never break the rule. Still, there were those times when I’d wonder. Simply saying hello couldn’t be so bad, could it?

I had managed to convince them to let me out on my own. Before, I always accompanied one or two or all of them when they had to run errands. I assumed they were so overprotective because of the witch who lived on the Forbidden Mountains, that dreadful Maleficent. But as far as I knew, she preferred being isolated up there, so she couldn’t be who they were protecting me from. I had heard about the curse she had placed on the young princess, who was fated to die before her sixteenth birthday. Terrible! Aunt Faunaa had been speaking to a man from the village about it.

“But they say the princess is safe,” he said to Fauna. “I think the king and queen have hidden her somewhere even Maleficent with all her spies wouldn’t dream of looking.”

“Has she got spies?” I had asked, intrigued. 

“Oh yes,” the man replied gravely. “Spies who do all the dirty work while she’s up on them mountains.”

“What dirty work?” I had asked eagerly.

“Now dear,” Aunt Fauna cut in. “That’s not nice business for a young girl like you to worry about.”

“Sure you’re right m’am,” the man said. “A lovely girl like this don’t need to know about Maleficent and her evil designs.”

So the best I could do was imagine them. I knew she was a dastardly creature, but her dark allure exerted power over my imagination. Sometimes she appeared in my dreams, obscured by a cloud of green smoke, but always cackling. I would wake up chilled. 

It was while I was gathering the herbs that I heard the voices. I stiffened. They sounded nearby. I quickly slipped behind one of my favorite trees, with its thick trunk and low hanging branches, which made concealment quite easy. I didn’t dare breathe or make any sound, even as my heart refused to cooperate and started hammering.

“Well I don’t see what all the fuss is,” one of the voices grumbled. 

“Well of course you wouldn’t,” a sibilant voice answered. “You could never see the fuss about anything.”

The voices seemed to be very near my tree. I continued holding my breath until they passed. I peeked out from around the tree, and saw four girls walking, their blonde, auburn, and black heads bobbing along. I looked into my basket. I had all the herbs needed for Aunt Flora’s soup. I was supposed to be heading back. Instead, I kept a distance and followed the girls. I couldn’t possibly be in any danger with them. They were probably around my age. I would turn 14 in a few weeks. 

One of the girls let out a shrill laugh. 

“You’ll scare the birds,” another girl scolded.

“I can’t help it! Sybil’s got a way of doing that.”

Two of the girls spread a blanket over the grass. Were they having a picnic? In this weather? The two black haired girls were twins; mirror copies of each other. The auburn haired girl was the shortest. The blonde had a nose like a bird; she was a bit pudgy with a very sweet, kind face. I hoped they wouldn’t notice the other blonde crouching behind one of the trees, watching them. 

But when the girls sat, they didn’t set out any food on the blankets. Instead, they each had a book. 

“I’ve finally caught up with the rest of you,” one of the twins said. She hugged the book, swooning. “What I wouldn’t give for a handsome man like the count to come along and sweep me off my feet.”

The auburn haired girl snorted. “I don’t trust him.”

The other three all exchanged knowing smirks. 

“What?” she protested. “He’s too good to be true. And there’s no man like him in real life.”

“How can you be so sure?” the other twin shot back.

“Have you met any?”

With a broad wink, the girl shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe I have, and maybe I haven’t.”

“Oh, come off it!”

They all began chattering, discussing the book they were reading and talking about handsome young men from the village. With a lurch, I realized that I’d never been to the village. My aunts had never taken me. 

“Jeffrey’s handsome enough,” the blonde girl was saying. “But he’s got such a peculiar voice. And I heard he fancies the miller’s daughter.”

“He would!” a girl shrieked. 

My aunts were probably wondering where I was. They would come looking for me in a bit. I meant to leave quietly of course, but while I shifted my footing, I lost my balance somehow. And managed to make a racket, landing on twigs.

The girls shouted in alarm. I looked up to see them all standing, staring at me with mingled expressions of alarm and suspicion.

“Who are you?” the auburn haired girl demanded. “And why are you spying on us?”

But I had lost my voice. I quickly stumbled to my feet, grabbing the spilled herbs and hastily stuffing them into the basket.

“She’s mad,” I heard one of the girls say. 

Without a backward glance, I sped back the way I had come, thinking only of home. She’s mad was ringing in my ears. My eyes stung. Maybe I was.


End file.
